


At The Seams

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Mental Instability, Romantic Fluff, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 21:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: Some of his clothes have been going missing.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 18
Kudos: 259
Collections: Mixed_Fics





	At The Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Even when it's fluff, you can't stop depression apparently. Mind angst. Mingst. But this is still fluff.
> 
> The prompt was a simple "Kamukura the Clothes Thief' and only Komaeda would suffer mental turmoil over the fact but that's exactly why he needs all the love and cuddles he can get. Baby. Baby boy.
> 
> Please enjoy, wah~

It started with a simple misplacement. He thought he had hung up his favorite coat in the closet but it was nowhere to be seen. While dismayed, he took a different jacket for the time being for his errands. It bothered him all day, and he felt quite silly when he found the coat in question carefully folded by his bedside.

Truth be told, he didn’t question it. He assumed he had washed and folded it himself and just forgot. He was stupid and scatter-brained. What other explanation could there be?

And then on another day, he couldn’t find one of his shirts. Perhaps he misplaced those too? While irritated, he had many to choose from and it wasn’t as bad as his coat.

Never mind that his coat had also gone missing. But it was found again. The shirt—was not.

_Bad luck, then?_

His coat went missing again. He was starting to feel dizzy and disoriented, but he laughed it all off. This would be an absolutely pitiful way to lose his sanity after all, so he just rolled with it. In a way, his incompetence was amusing. Although it was more embarrassing when he realized he couldn’t find his favorite underwear.

_It is just me, right? Right, right, right?_

Komaeda sat on the bed, clutching his coat. It had been returned. Freshly washed with the scent he always used. Burying his face in the fabric, Komaeda breathes. And he breathes. And then, his nose brushes up against some stitches.

He blinks once.

It’s not unusual for his clothes to have stitches. He’d mended them himself for years. His coat in particular is one of his finest handiwork. It’s part of the reason why he’s so attached to it. But as he fingers these stitches, he notes that they’re much finer than usual. That his clumsy needlework could not begin to compare to what was perfection.

_Perfection. It can’t be._

“Kamukura-kun?”

* * *

The door opens when he still lies in bed. Kamukura Izuru peers in, and his gaze sweeps over him. He shivers, tries not to bite his lip, and forces a strained smile in return.

“You did not show up today,” Kamukura pointed out. He is holding a bag. “Are you feeling unwell, Nagito?”

Swallowing, Komaeda shook his head furiously.

“Um. Kamukura-kun.” Even caught in his throat, the words feel inane. Ridiculous. Audacious. And yet, they spill because he’s an idiot with no filter. “Have you been _taking_ my clothes?”

“Yes. I have. You said I could help myself to anything in your home.” Kamukura doesn’t even miss a beat. All while Komaeda nearly chokes and he calmly explains himself. “However, I do apologize. When I wore your shirt, I stretched it out.” He holds up the bag. “I bought you a replacement. As well as your returned underwear. I did not wear those.”

“I...see...” Komaeda nods along, trying not to laugh. “Aha, such consideration. You really didn’t have to do that. Buy another shirt, I mean. I would have preferred you returned my underwear.”

It’s funny. It’s so funny. It’s surreal. It’s so surreal.

Kamukura Izuru sets the bag before him and Komaeda takes out the clothes. Freshly washed with the scent he favors. The fabric fine as ever, just the newfound softness acting as an indication of something untoward. Something different, he amended. There was nothing wrong with Kamukura Izuru, after all. Nothing except his wretched tastes.

The shirt is the exact same as the one taken. Same size, same design, same faded white. He wants to bury his face in it, but he also considers ripping it to shreds.

_I feel funny._

“Nagito?”

He doesn’t flinch. He used to, whenever his name was voiced by Kamukura’s elegant lips. Now, he just bows his head subserviently and he shifts ever so slightly when Kamukura settles on the bed beside him. He doesn’t stiffen in Kamukura’s embrace when those arms wrap securely around him, as if Kamukura intended to prevent him from sinking further into himself. Kamukura Izuru really was so much more than anyone could ever dream of deserving.

“Your scent,” Kamukura said softly, burying his face into Komaeda’s neck. “It’s nice.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” he replied, smile twisted and short of his clouded gaze. “I put a lot of effort into being clean, after all.”

“It is not just the effort.” Kamukura’s forehead bumped against his lightly. So lightly. As if Kamukura couldn’t crush his skull with just a swift strike of the hand. “It is Nagito’s inherent scent. Produced by your body’s pores and oils.”

“I guess it’s lucky, then.” His twisted smile barely twitches. “For my miserable, feeble body to emanate a stench that is to Kamukura Izuru’s preferences.”

“I have no preferences. I only like Nagito.”

_That’s luck too, isn’t it?_

Kamukura pets his hair, fingers sliding through the strands with ease. It should be as overwhelming and exciting as it is purely frustrating. The sensation is no doubt pleasant. Kamukura’s fingers are careful. His hand warm. The way it cups his skull is undeniably precious.

“I like Nagito,” is repeated, almost insistently. Kamukura nuzzles against him like a child seeking reassurance. How is he supposed to respond? He feels lost. Like a misplaced article of clothing. “Nagito, Nagito.”

_Wouldn’t it be better to be a mere husk? One that Kamukura-kun can simply slip under and fill. Stretch out as the seams strain. Something that can be easily mended and manipulated. Wouldn’t it be easier? Wouldn’t it be comforting?_

Komaeda sighs and acts in a way that an object cannot. He nuzzles Kamukura back, and Kamukura squeezes him in return. He can’t see the other smile, but he can feel it, against his scalp and skin. He trembles, and Kamukura strokes along his spine.

“I don’t mind you stretching out my clothes,” he finds himself saying. “I’ll still wear them afterwards. I like the idea of wearing what Kamukura-kun has worn, too.”

“It is a pleasant feeling,” Kamukura agreed, humming. “It is comforting.”

He laughs.

“That makes me happy to hear. Even if I don’t understand it at all.”

“What is there not to understand? It is because I am fond of you, Nagito.” Kamukura pauses, briefly, lips pulling into a more characteristic straight line. While he undeniably loves that smile, it would be a lie to suggest it calmed him in any way. This stoicism was easier to deal with. Far, far easier.

Even when Kamukura touches his face carefully, gaze intense and piercing. It was easier than when he smiled.

“I love you, Nagito.”

“Aha, thank you.” He keeps his voice steady. “I really appreciate it. I love you too, Kamukura-kun.”

Without thinking, he tugs at Kamukura’s tie. It’s a perfect knot and he undoes it. It’s almost obscene. Almost. What is obscene is the way he wraps it around his own neck and Kamukura ties it without missing a beat.

“It looks silly,” he murmurs.

“I do not mind it,” Kamukura replies, kissing his forehead. That smile returns and Komaeda wants to hide in the other’s suit. Of course, doing so just causes Kamukura to slip off the blazer and wrap it around him. He shudders. It’s ridiculous, but Kamukura hums in approval.

“Cute. Cute, cute.” He kisses one cheek, and then the next. Komaeda already feels dizzyingly hot as Kamukura next kisses his ear. “So cute. My Nagito.”

_Mine, he says. That makes it easier. So much easier._

Kamukura smooths out the creases in the sleeves and he brushes back Komaeda’s hair. He pauses for a moment and then he pulls out a few clips from his own hair to pin back fluffy white fringe instead. It’s almost surreal. He almost feels like a doll with the way Kamukura manipulates him, but he smiles all the same when Kamukura cups his cheek.

“Wearing one another’s clothes is an intimate activity that lovers partake in.” The tone is matter-of-fact, almost smug. Komaeda wants to burst out laughing but instead he shudders and, then, Kamukura pulls him in close. He squeezes and strokes his hair, his nape, his back, his shoulders, and even his hip. It’s a lot at once, so all Komaeda can think to do is slump within that embrace.

Surrounded by Kamukura from his jacket to the man himself—it really is surreal.

“You could even wear my skin if you wanted to,” he mutters and laughs at the idea. Anyone else would be rightfully disturbed but Kamukura just kisses his hair as if nothing was amiss. “I wouldn’t mind being consumed by you, either.”

“I just want you with me, Nagito.”

“Aha. Haha.” Komaeda licked his lips, breathing in Kamukura’s scent. “Just that, huh?”

_Of **course** it’s just that._

His eyes began to flutter shut as the thoughts run through his head.

_Kamukura-kun has such simple, pure desires. He’s nothing like you. But isn’t that why you’re happy? That Kamukura-kun wants to wrap you in himself and wants to wrap himself in you—it’s such excess. Such indulgence. Isn’t that nice?_

It’s nice. It’s definitely nice. Komaeda sighs pleasantly as he relaxes.

_It’s nice. Let’s stay like this. Wrapped up in each other._


End file.
